


The Heart Wins Over

by ivarara



Series: Hawk n Hum [6]
Category: Hollow Knight (Video Game)
Genre: angst but it doesn't stay sad because i can't write angst and not fix it, in my sick and twisted mind...everyone is nice. end of discussion. even mantises, nasty man. dirty boy. orange goblin crechure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-14 03:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20593751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivarara/pseuds/ivarara
Summary: galla is my mantis oc!! tl;dr, she took care of any infected buggaroos that got too close to the village. i can add more Elaboration on Backstory if it's needed!





	1. False Hope

**Author's Note:**

> galla is my mantis oc!! tl;dr, she took care of any infected buggaroos that got too close to the village. i can add more Elaboration on Backstory if it's needed!

****

The only reason Deepnest was in any way “tolerable” was when Hum had Hawk alongside. Hawk could keep their smaller sibling safe and sound. Hum only worried a bit about their safety in the dark, writhing tunnels. Hawk had a big spear-like nail that they were skilled with. Hawk wouldn’t hesitate to defend Hum. Hawk was taller and stronger.

Hawk was...missing.

Right.

Standing at a fork in the paths, while Hawk was studying their trusty and worn-out map, Hum had meandered to the side. One of those bright, bright pink plants was there! They wanted to pick a stem to use. If Hum picked it, would it keep glowing? They could use it like a little torch to guide the way through this scary, awful place! 

Hum didn’t think they had gone that far. Just a few steps to the side towards the plant while Hawk figured things out, then a quick turnaround and they’d be on their way. Only when they had turned around, Hawk wasn’t there.

The plant didn’t even glow after being picked. The trip was in vain.

Which led to where Hum was now: ever-so-carefully edging along the walls of the tunnels and caves, startling at every noise. Normally, Hum didn’t need to worry about the dangers of exploring this much. Hawk did that. Hum just explored. Rustled plants and touched vines and skittered through puddles. That sort of thing.

Not this.

Retrace their steps, that’s what they should do. Hum resolves to do so. Except all these scary paths look the same: same blue-gray color, same darkness, same skittering corpses, same Infection-spitting arachnids. 

Hopelessness is settling in steadily. Sure, Hum had been lost before, separated from Hawk. But this was different. Normally it wasn’t in such a scary place. The enemies were slower. There were ample places for them to dart to hide. This place wasn’t “plain” as in _“boring”_, it was “plain” as in “_the same rocky paths with no bushes or boulders or structures to hide behind!”_

They want to give up. Just give up and curl into a ball and wait for someone to find them, hopefully before anything bad happens. Tuck their little arms beneath their lavender cloak and pull their knees up to their chin and just...lay.

_Everything moves down here._ The pits in the floor were filled with squirming forms. Garpedes charged through and rumbled the walls around them. The shadows danced around in the sparse light that could be found.

Wait. _That _shadow. The height and the horns. Hum knew that shadow. Hawk was back!

They leap towards the shape without a second thought. If Hawk was back, they would be able to lead Hum out of here! Hawk would know the way out, surely.

When Hum grew near the shadow of their sibling, it darted away. Oh! Hawk was playing! Hum should chase them! Hawk wasn’t up for playing that often, so Hum was ecstatic. They skittered in the shadow’s wake, following blindly. 

Hum didn’t notice where they were headed. It was Hawk, so they trusted they were headed to a safe spot. Hawk wouldn’t lead them astray! So Hum followed and followed and followed. Around the corner here, through a quick jump down there, until they were rightfully lost. 

Hawk’s shape runs down a dark, web-covered tunnel. Hum follows.

_Snap!_ A thick wedge of webs snaps shut behind Hum. In a panic, they beat against it as they try to break out. Hawk’s shadow stands further ahead, almost patiently.

Hum could trust their Hawk.

Could they trust_ this _Hawk?

They didn’t have a choice. Hum moved forward after the shadow, albeit more cautiously. The outline of Hawk continued forward, just out of range enough to be obscured.

At the end of the tunnel was a cavernous room. Hum entered tepidly, nearly flying out of their cloak entirely when a particularly thick strip of webs snaps together at their back.

_There was Hawk!_ Just standing on a platform in the middle of the room. The wide, open room, eerily similar to other rooms the two of them had encountered more difficult foes in. The creepy, creaky, dusty room.

With husks of other bugs hanging from the ceiling.

_Could they trust this Hawk?_

Hum inches forward slowly. At any moment the ground could rumble or the ceiling could collapse or the walls could break and reveal some huge bug ready for a fight.

Closer and closer. Hum was on the verge of trembling from how afraid they were. Hawk’s form did not move, did not encourage their sibling forward, did not acknowledge Hum in any way.

Hum clambers up onto the platform Hawk is on. As they grow near, Hawk’s posture snaps straight. Their mask stares blankly back into Hum’s. Hum jerks to a halt, stutters to the side just a step.

Hawk’s mask twitches to follow. Not a turn. A twitch. Like the husks outside would before they came back to life.

This was _not _Hawk.

Hum needed to_ run._

The fake Hawk appears to have caught on to Hum’s conclusion. Without warning, their neck _snaps_. The mask turns completely sideways.

Oh, Hum is far beyond running now. Hum is petrified in place, staring in blatant horror as their sibling’s familiar form twists and contorts and sprouts limbs. A sickly, glowing orange belly bursts out behind jagged ribs as Hawk (no, not Hawk)--as the grotesque thing kept writhing and snapping. Its legs stab into the dirt with a roar that makes the walls quake around them.

Hum cowers. What else is there to do? They have nothing to defend or attack with. Absolutely nothing. Not even their shield forged from a shell.

The amalgamation snarls again, and leaps.


	2. The Heart Trumps the Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galla comes across a little vessel unknowingly walking into Nosk's lair. She can't leave them.

Galla is reluctantly familiar with Deepnest’s horrors. On the rare occasion that one made its way to the Village, she was the one dispatched to dispose of them in a manner that would prevent unwanted attention. 

She knows what lurks here. She knows why the Mantis Lords keep the gate that led here locked and guarded. The sisters were not merely being strict about any wanderer’s passage through their land. The sisters were protecting Hallownest, with only a rare few knowing what from. To get through, one would need to prove their worth and skill against the trio of sister Lords.

The small figure wandering these tunnels does not fit what she would expect of someone that had accomplished this feat.

Hugging the walls, jumping at every sound and shadow, the mere size and stature makes it hard to believe that this traveler had done what few had done before.

So Galla follows. From curiosity, perhaps; from concern, definitely not. If this being became Infected, she would need to face off with it at a later date. May as well get a good study of it now.

The wanderer does not even appear to have anything to defend with. _How in the world did you find your way here?,_ Galla finds herself asking silently. They must have had company to get them through.

So, where was their company?

This individual would most definitely not make it without help. Even the single-minded, easily-fooled Dirtcarvers were spooking them. 

_Do not cave in,_ a voice scolds her. _They are weak, frail. Vulnerable. They do not deserve your pity._

A Garpede thunders by overhead.

The figure goes stiff as a rod until the noise ceases.

_Do** not** let your heart overrule your mind’s logic, Warr_ior.

The figure curls into a ball on the ground, giving up. The tattered cloak ruffles over their tiny arms and legs, while their mask tilts downward in despair.

_You just let your heart overrule your mind’s logic, didn’t you, esteemed Warrior? How soft has your strong will become?_

Galla shakes her head, rattling the voice away. Defending someone in need was not weak. It was honorable. If anyone knew the Mantises, they knew they were a species of honor.

The little figure is looking around now. During Galla’s internal conflict, they must have noticed something. Their posture straightens and they leap to their feet as their short legs tear back down the haunting tunnel, chasing...something.

_ No!_ Galla despairs. That’s what the beast does: twists the soul using the vulnerable state of fear into glimmering false hope. So easily deceived, those affected by paralyzing horror and despair, that they fall willingly into the guise. A bolt of worry shivers through Galla’s form. She was in too deep, now. She was concerned about the small being.

Reflexively, the warrior uses her strong legs to propel her nimble form up and forward after the wanderer.

These areas were unusually silent. The rest of Deepnest had the atmospheric rumbling and skittering of creatures and monsters alike. She almost missed the familiar ambiance, as outrageous and peculiar as it sounds. Here, there is nothing. Just the distant pitter-patter of the wanderer’s feet chasing the ruse and Galla’s own barely-detectable footfalls. Ages of training and practice has taught her how to move silently, for an unalerted enemy puts up no fight.

The being travels down at a fork in the pathway, plopping to their little feet at the bottom of a step before charging forward again. The top path would provide a vantage point, the analytical part of her mind suggests. _By the miserable Pale King, you know you don’t want to be closer to the lurker than you need to be. _She snaps up with the agility and speed all mantises have, darting to hang off one wall by her claws before kicking off to land in the upper tunnel.

It leads to a jagged crack in the wall, just wide enough for her to slip through. As predicted, digging a claw into the crack from the outside gave her a good point to survey the room, while leaving one arm with talons at the ready.

A figure stood eerily rigid and still. It appeared to be one of the Pale King’s vessels, but Galla knew better. That figure was nothing but a lie, a device to writhe into the hopes and dreams of its prey to lure it to demise. 

A distant thud alerts her that the little one is nearing. The figure in the room does not move or acknowledge their presence. The small wanderer definitely slows as they approach the center of the room, finally outwardly suspicious of the scene.

A fearful, minuscule step edges them forward. The figure does not move.

Another step, just as tepid and meek. The figure stares.

A slight lift of the leg for one more step.

The figure snaps, grows and shifts and morphs into the infamous creature Galla had heard about, spoken in hushed tones by her fellow tribe members.

Nosk.

The realization freezes her for a moment. _Move! _Her mind scolds. _You’ve no time to sit and gawk!_

A flick of a wrist fans the talons on one arm out into a wide shape just before she lunges off the wall. Mid-air, she flicks her other wrist, procuring a similar set of blades on the other arm. Slamming into the ground between the little one and Nosk, one hand braces to push off as the other slashes the talons in the mimic’s face. It recoils and snarls, rearing and slashing two forelimbs at her. A dodge moves her safely out of the way, arm wrapped around the bone-stiff wanderer.

Galla curls herself around the smaller figure, feeling them latch on to her shoulders with both arms. So, good to know. This one’s just another vessel.

Nosk charges towards them with a hiss, the ground rumbling under her feet. The vessel tucks their head under her chin and trembles. Galla rolls to the side, careful not to jostle her newly-acquired charge. Still reeling from the miss, the creature behind them roars. 

Sprinting to a far corner of the room, Galla gently sets the vessel down in a hurry. _**“Stay,”**_ she snaps with more snarl than intended. “Do not move unless that thing is charging at you and I am not here.” With wide eyes, they cower down, wrapping their arms around their form under the cloak.

Her attention returns to Nosk. Fortunately, while the beast may be clever in trickery, it is rather dull in combat. Its attention is focused solely on her, the upside-down puppet’s black eyes staring back in the absence of a face on the creature. 

When kept at a distance, Nosk resorts to charging forward in hopes of knocking its target down. For Galla, this meant a precisely-timed jump leads her out of the way, to where she can slash downwards as the creature barrels past, and land another swipe as she lands. 

Dodge. Slice. Stand tall. Jump, twist, slice. The familiar rush of a battle takes over. How long had it been since she had fought a worthy foe? Since she had eliminated something besides a dumbly, bumbling husk that accidentally made its way near? This is what she craves and years for. A battle that would make her Lords and tribe proud.

She refuses to lose this.

Time slips past through the haze of the fight. When Nosk finally stumbles, gives one last enraged roar as it struggles to its feet, Galla charges, honing in on the sickly orange of the creature’s thorax. Two slashes, a punctual stab for good measure, and the nightmarish thing collapses with one last futile twitch of a limb.

_ You’ve done it! _Her mind triumphs. _The infamous Nosk, feaster of dreams, heart of the nightmare! _She stands straight and squares her shoulders and she flicks orange goo off the talons.

Then she remembers the audience she has.

Swiveling her head, she scans the room for the vessel. True to what she had expected, they had not moved from their spot against the wall. The mask, expressionless, would likely convey an incredible sense of awe at her feat.

“You’re far from where you belong, little vessel,” the Galla murmurs quietly and slowly. She tilts her head as she appraises the small vessel. “What might you be doing?”

Hesitantly, a trembling, black arm peeks out from beneath the pale-lavender cloak. The arm points at the thankfully now-deceased husk of Nosk.

“You were aware Nosk was here?” The mantis asks incredulously.

The vessel shakes their head. Carefully, they inch their way closer to the dead beast, keeping Galla’s towering form between them, as if it would leap back to life if they let their guard down. 

_The ‘mask’?_ “The disguise it had on?” A furious nod. Galla could see the resemblance-- not a clone like it had been for some, but someone close they had known, a friend or family member.

The vessel looks as if there’s curiosity swirling within them, but the caution instilled into them from one deceitful encounter makes them wary.

“Look, little one, it is no more,” Galla jabs the corpse with her talons, watching passively as it rolls limply. “This creature is not like some of the others in Deepnest. There will be no reanimation.”

The little child of the void still keeps the mantis warrior between themselves and the best, but inches closer. Though their mask remains expressionless, as always, the fear is plain as day in their form. Their small arms reach out for the dangling puppet at the creature’s head. A bone-pale mask, a tattered Mothwing cloak...and the eyes. The blank, soulless eyes. The puppet’s were different-- the small vessel she had saved still showed animation and liveliness; the presence of a soul in there.

“Do you know who that was?” Galla inquires. She immediately regrets her wording as the vessel turns back towards her and would no doubtedly have tears brimming in their eyes if possible. “No, no, let me elaborate. Nosk does not necessarily need to kill a host to gain a deceitful appearance,” she assures. “It is entirely possible your friend is still alive and well, somewhere.”

The vessel calms down, even if slightly. Then, a slight nod in agreement.

“Pardon?” The void being points to the puppet and shakes their head. “So...not your friend?”_ Shake_. “But you kne-_know_ them?”_ Nod_. “Sibling?” _Enthusiastic nodding. Absolutely overjoyed nodding. Head-bobbing, dancing-on-their-tip-toes nodding._ “Ah. That’s right, all of you vessels were technically siblings.”

The smaller being stares at her, the eyes of the mask almost screaming a plea for the voiceless soul.

“I will consider aiding you in reuniting with your lost one,” Galla starts hesitantly. “But first, rest. I am worn out from fighting that sorry, erratic, faux-appearing excuse of a predator, and you look as though a few moments at the Hot Springs here would serve you well.” She turns to exit the creature’s recluse, talons raised and ready to swipe through dangling webs. 

The vessel hasn’t moved.

“Well?” 

A pause and a glance back to the beast’s puppet. 

“You understand that is not your sibling, yes? Just a copy of sorts.”

The mask turns back to her meekly.

Galla huffs to herself. _So quickly your will is swayed by a pair of pleading eyes._ “Little vessel, let me admit something: in the short time we’ve known each other, I’ve already fallen fond of you. I want to assure you are safe. If that means scouring Hallownest until we find your companion, so be it.” And she meant it, too. “But the first step towards tracking down a missing individual is to be well-rested and alert, correct?”

_Nod, nod._

She carefully folds back the talons on one limb and extends it towards them. Instantaneously, the vessel surges forward and latches on tightly to her claw.

“Come, then. Let us get patched up.”


	3. Hot Springs, Cool Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galla and Hum arrive at the Springs. Hum plays. Galla laughs. They bond.
> 
> [rip at the title]

The trek back towards the area’s Hot Spring is considerably less tense than the trek taken beforehand. Her new mantis friend easily steps over a Dirtcarver with her long, slender legs, dodge the toxic spit from a Deephunter scrabbling along a wall, pause for a few seconds after slaying a Husk to ensure there’d be no revival.

For her, it was easy.

For Hum, it was not.

Their tiny, short legs struggled to keep up with the mantis’ strides. While her companion’s easy walk caused their deep red cape to glide in their wake, Hum’s lavender cloak fluttered wildly as they scrambled to keep up.

It took a short while of skittering to catch up, falling behind, and catching up again for her to notice. To her credit, she stopped in her tracks and waits.

“My apologies,” she says sincerely, “forgive my ignorance. I am not accustomed to escorting charges so...small.”

_‘Charge’? _The friend took Hum as her charge! That meant she would stick around! Hum bounces on their feet in excitement.

“Permit me?” She asks as she kneels down and extends an arm. _What did she mean? _Hum cocks her head to the side. “Climb on, child. We’re in no real danger, and it would save the hassle of pacing.”

Instantly, Hum scampers forward, stepping up onto the outstretched arm, up onto her shoulders, to where she could stand and survey from the safety granted by her friend’s bulk. Her friend’s head tilts back a slight bit, carefully, checking on them. Peeking over the top of the mantis’ head, Hum tries to wave an arm. The mantis flicks a wrist in a half-hearted wave back.

This reminded Hum of when Hawk would give them shoulder rides! They felt like they were looking out of a spire in the City of Tears, high up and towering over anything else.

_Hawk_. Hum’s mood plummets. Where was Hawk? Were they okay? Were they even alive anymore? Her friend had said Nosk didn’t need to kill to copy, but what if…?

The mantis speaking up startles Hum out of their dwelling. “So, little vessel. Do you have a name of sorts?”

Hum was silent.

“Vessels cannot speak. Correct. Anyways, my nomination is Galla, of the Mantis Tribe. You have heard of us, yes?”

Hum nods quickly.

Galla seeks to bask in the recognition. “Still, I wonder how I should address you. ‘_Little one’_ or_ ‘vessel’_ seems informal for speaking to the soul I have just saved.” Galla hums in thought.

_Hum! She hummed! _Hum furiously pats one of Galla’s horns.

“Hm?” Galla hums again, in question. Hum’s pattering continues. “Hm. I have been humming a fair bit.” 

_Patpatpatpatpat! _

“Is…’Hum’?” 

_Patpatpatpatpatpatpat!! _

“‘Hum’, then. You want to be designated as such?”

Hum nods so hard their horns clunk against Galla’s.

“I understand,” Galla confirms, chuckling lightly. “‘Hum’ it is. Very fitting, if I may say.”

Hum is positively beaming, though their mask betrays their feelings.

The walk to the Springs is nice, now that Hum isn’t worrying about being attacked constantly. Galla took care of that. Galla kept her safe! Hum takes to looking around now that they have the chance, watching from a distance. After a while of walking, however, Hum’s head starts to droop as they doze off. Galla carefully wraps her claws around Hum’s legs to keep them in place should they accidentally lean too far.

“Here we are, then,” Galla’s melodic voice announces after Hum has dozed for a short bit. The end of the path is a brightly-lit room, the inviting essence flowing out almost palpable. Galla sighs as she steps in, bathed in light and the light mist from the bubbling spring. “A bench to rest, Hot Springs to heal, and a comforting glow. I’m afraid I will be reluctant to leave once we are done.”

Carefully kneeling, Galla lowers herself so Hum can hop off her back with a small _fwump!_ as they land in the soft sand. Hum wiggles their feet in the dirt, much appreciating the feeling of solid ground under their feet instead of stony trails that spouted monsters every few steps.

Ah, the bench! Galla had mentioned one. They are always nice to rest on, to sit and swing their feet back and forth because their legs are too short to reach the ground. Hum would sit and look at all the things they had gathered while Hawk checked and updated their map.

_Hawk…_

“Pardon, little Hum,” Galla interrupts gently, “do you oppose to my making sure you’re unharmed? Just a preliminary, quick look-over. If you would rather not, I understand. I’d just rather be safe than sorry.”

Hum nods.

“Alright. Hop on the bench.”

With a struggle that was all too familiar, Hum wriggles their way up onto the bench. Instead of sitting, they remain standing. Galla’s..._mantis-ness_ means she is way taller than Hum. On the bench, Galla would have an easier time without having to hunch over.

With the same delicacy Galla has used this far, she checks Hum over. Makes them hold out their little arms to inspect, tilts their mask to and fro to check for scuffs or scrapes, even has them let her check their inky black feet. Hum goes with it. They and Hawk and all the other vessels didn’t bleed or show real signs of harm unless they were already very, very near their end. The abyssal black void would leak out through the mask, waft off their body like smoke. 

Hum is fine. They still let Galla take her time. They like being doted on.

“Good news, my very sturdy friend. You appear to be perfectly fine, aside from...this.” Galla picks a few crinkly leaves from Hum’s cloak with finesse. She sits down silently next to Hum and peruses the state of her talons, careful to keep them away from Hum. That doesn’t stop them from leaning over to look closer for a short second before growing bored. Hum does not care about weaponry in the slightest, since they don’t like harming others. That is a job for bugs and vessels that are bigger and stronger and tougher, they resolved. Taking to old habits, Hum begins to swing their legs restlessly where they dangle over the seat of the bench. For her part, Galla tolerates it. Hawk would bump Hum’s shoulder to make them stop after a while. Galla let her do it as long as they wanted.

“Tired of sitting idly?” Galla prompts after the leg-swinging continues for a few minutes. Hum shrugs. A mischievous glint enters Galla’s eyes through her own mask. “Last I knew, there was nothing stopping you from enjoying the Springs while we’re here. You’re not hurt, but they still feel wonderful, no?”

That is _all _Hum needs to hear. They practically fly off the bench, stomping through the sand to the edge of the Springs. The water bubbles while billows of steam roll off of the surface.

Should they wade in? Run in? Jump in? There are too many choices.

Hum elects to barge straight in.

With a slight recoil, they charge forward, kicking up clumps of dirt from the force of their stampede. The first step into the Springs is nice, the second is even better, but when the water is up to their midsection, it feels wonderful. Their lavender cloak floats slightly where the water reaches it, making little waves which the vessel’s legs make bigger ripples. One arm reaches out from under their cloak to plunk into the water with a little splash and a _plink! _

Hum hears Galla murmur amusedly from the bench. So they do it again. _Plunk! Plonk!_ The splashes get bigger as Hum hits the water harder and harder. 

Swiping their inky hand across the surface makes a bigger splash that reaches the short from the force. So they do it again. Hum sticks both arms out from under the cloak, swiping back and forth quickly across the water.

“Careful, there,” Galla laughs. She stands and approaches the water and Hum. “You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

Hum plaps her hands on the water frantically. _Plapplipplopplonk! Hum loves this!_

“If you can refrain from splashing for a short period, I would join you.”

Immediately Hum stops.

With a chuckle, Galla steps in. Her height means the Hot Spring’s water only really reaches up to her knees, but she bends down on one to get on Hum’s level.

“Quite relaxing. Warm, bubbly, steamy. Strange, aren’t these places?”

Hum bounces on their toes, making ripples in the water.

Galla’s eyes narrow in the absence of a smile. “You’ve made little sand mounds by these before, haven’t you?”

Hum tilts their head again.

“You know. Little piles you shape and decorate with stones or leaves or flowers. Just for the fun of it.”

Hum’s head tilts to the other side.

“Come here,” Galla invites, stepping out of the water easily. Hum bobs back to the shore, cloak dripping into the dirt. “All you do is scrape some together and shape it however you want.” She demonstrates, digging into the sand with a claw to accumulate a fair amount of grains before gently patting the top to round it out. “Like so.”

Oh! Hum could do that! They sit in the sand and spread their arms wide, gathering up as much dirt as their little arms could. In the middle, Hum paps the sides and top of the mound to smooth it. They tilt their mask back to Galla for an opinion.

“Precisely!” Galla beams. “Then you garnish it with whatever you like for flair.” She looks around for a few seconds before plucking a stalk of grass from the ground and spearing it into the top of the dirt pile. 

How could Hum decorate theirs, then? Looking around, Hum sees all sorts of things to use: pretty stones, a stick, some leaves, little flowers. Hopping up, they set to gathering. Galla watches happily, following Hum’s little wander for treasures. When Hum deems they have enough, they return and sit down again with their decorations in their lap.

Galla makes a show of appraising their findings. “Hm. I see. Very smart. Beautiful. Excellent additions,” she giggles quietly. “Hand me that stick. We can conceive a little flag from it for your sand palace there.” Hum rifles through the pile until the short stick is procured, handing it to Galla. Taking it gently, she leans over and picks a leaf off a bush and expertly pokes it onto the stick with care. “Here you go. A flag worthy of your might domain”

Hum takes the handmade flag with reverence. Carefully, very carefully, they stick it into the top of the dirt pile before sitting back and nodding. The pretty stones are stuck into the dirt around the sides; the flowers laid into a ring around the bottom. Galla reaches over and carefully draws accents with her claw: a window pane, a little door, a walkway in front, little symbols and whatnots to add attractiveness.

“Well, I consider this a very magnificent sand palace, little Hum. Wonderful work.” Galla beams and pats Hum’s shoulder gently. “We should be going though, unfortunately. If we want to find your sibling, we mustn't dally too long, else they’ll outpace us.”

Hum nods, standing up and brushing off dirt that stuck to their arms and legs and cloak. Galla wipes off herself before kneeling again to allow Hum to clamber onto her shoulders. Hum throws a forlorn look at their little sand palaces.

“No worries, my friend. They may last; they may not. That’s how it is in this world. If they remain, so be it, relish in the reunion. If they don’t, create new memories to think upon.”

Hum nods. They were absolutely showing Hawk how to make one when they reunite.

_If_ they reunite.


	4. Mantis Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galla and Hum arrive at the Mantis Tribe's Village and meet the Mantis Lords. True to nature, Hum tries to make many friends, as well as scaring Galla half to death.

“I would gauge that our best course would be to work our way back to Dirtmouth,” Galla muses as she walks, Hum perched on her shoulders. “Unless you and your companion were heading to a specific destination?” Galla looks up, awaiting an answer.

Hum shakes their head no, making their scarf flap.

“Then that will be our short-term goal.” Galla thinks for a moment. “Back through Mantis Village, the Fungal Wastes, and the Forgotten Crossroads will likely be the easiest route. Individuals tend to meet up in Dirtmouth, right?” She asks herself out loud.

Hum still nods in response.

Galla’s eyes narrow as she smiles. “Thank you for the input, Hum,” she murmurs.

The exit of Deepnest is eerily familiar. Light from the Mantis Village bleeds out from under the gate the Lords kept locked. Galla knocks in a firm pattern on the hulking door, and stands back. She feels Hum tilt their head in curiosity. “Mantises of the Tribe have a specific request for entry we are taught. It is for the case that, should one of us end up on the wrong side of this door, the others will know we are safe to allow entrance.”

As she finishes, a voice from the other side calls out._ “State yourself!”_

“Galla, member of the Tribe,” she hollers back.

_ “Galla?” _The voice sounds awed, surprised. _“One moment.”_

The door creaks open just enough for her and her company to slip through before it slams shut again. The three Mantis Lord sisters stand from their perches to observe her, while the Mantis Warrior that opened the door bows deeply. “Commander Galla, it is wonderful to see you in good spirits.”

“As to you,” she answers distractedly. She’s more focused on the way the Lords are looking at Hum. Of course, Hum is oblivious, reveling in all the activity.

“Is something arry, my Lords?” Galla asks after a pause.

“That vessel,” the first speaks up, “and its accompanying sibling. They drew their weapons against us and triumphed.”

_ So the two vessels did really earn their right through the passage. Curious._

“Where is the other?” the second sister inquires. “There were two of them when they passed through.”

“Did Deepnest prove to be too great a threat for them?” The third Lord wonders aloud. “Did they fall to the beast’s facade?”

Galla feels Hum’s little hands tighten around her horns as they try to curl in on themselves. “No, no. They’re merely unaccounted for,” she says pointedly. Hum relaxes a slight bit. “We are returning to Dirtmouth to perhaps meet up with them, or at least see if anyone there has heard word of them.”

“An honorable feat,” the second of the three murmurs as the other two nod sagely.

“Through here you have safe passage, as always,” the first sister informs, more for Hum’s sake. “You, vessel, have proven yourself already to us. Our warriors respect you sincerely. Now that you have Galla’s hard-to-earn approval, you are guaranteed safety here,” she finishes with a slight smile. The other sisters narrow their eyes as they smile and nod again.

Hum practically vibrates at the praise, bouncing slightly on Galla’s shoulders. All three sisters smile even greater. 

“Go forth, and safe travels,” the third Lord pipes up. “May you find your sibling safe and sound!”

Galla bows slightly, as much as she can with Hum still on her perch. When she straightens and turns to leave, the Warrior bows once more. Galla nods respectfully to them before walking. She can feel Hum try a meager wave to the Mantises as they exit the room and slows so the Lords can wave back in response. 

Hum beams the entire trot out of the Mantis Lords’ room. Their cheer is contagious, radiating out to affect Galla as well.

“Little Hum, this requires a small bit of climbing. Are you holding tight?”

Hum nods, making a point to wrap their arms tighter.

“Hold steady,” Galla warns, before launching off the ground. Her claws easily dig into the walls, this area having been designed with her species in mind. For Hum’s part, they do hold strong to Galla, though it morphs into more of a death-grip when they are in the air. Fortunately, only a few short latches are required to reach flat ground again, where Galla gracefully lands.

“We will be passing many other Mantises on our way through, if you were not aware,” Galla speaks as they continue walking. “I do not expect there to be any...complications. They respect me, and from what the Lords have stated, the respect you as well. They will not attack you, but still, be respectful. Again, I do not anticipate you being respectful being a problem.”

Hum nods quickly.

“Then we shall go.”

As they march through the Village, they pass many Mantis Warriors and Mantis Youths milling about. True to their honor, they bow respectfully at their approach and remain non-hostile.

Hum waves to every single one of them.

Surprisingly, many wave back.

Mantises are a species of honor, indeed. They fight nobly, remain loyal until death, and stand true to their beliefs to a fault. 

They weren’t all rude or stuck-up, as many believed. 

Galla feels a swell of pride. “Hum, you are not surprised your kind gestures are being returned, are you?”

Hum pausese. Meekly, they nod.

Galla chuckles lightly. “We’re prideful, not mean,” she states simply.

Hum ducks their head down behind Galla.

“Would you like to walk on your own two legs now?” Galla changes the subject. She didn’t mind the cargo, but Hum seemed to be a being of curiosity. They’d likely want to investigate things themselves.

Hum nods eagerly. Galla kneels down and allows Hum to sidle off her back, plunking onto the ground next to her.

“You know the deal: stay near. Understood?”

Hum’s head bobs.

“Very well, little one. Let’s continue.”

They pass a sickly green puddle of bubbling, fizzling acid. All Mantises knew to give the acid a wide berth; any drops that landed on a being would sizzle and burn.

Hum trots right up to the edge of the pool.

“Hum? You understand what that is, no?”

Hum doesn’t respond, staring deeply into the liquid.

And goes to jump.

_ “NO!”_ Galla bellows, snapping into action. Her reflexes are quick enough that she snatches Hum mid-air, ripping them away from the acid. “What are you _thinking?!_” she snarls. “That acid will eat you alive! Do you understand?”

Hum’s eyes are wide with surprise and fear. Galla pauses, realizing just how loudly she had snapped at the vessel. 

Galla heaves a sigh. “Forgive my outburst, little one.” She hugs Hum closely. Hum leans into her embrace. “You merely...gravely frightened me. You vessels are study and resilient, but acid will dissolve near anything it touches.” She looks down at the bundle wrapped in her lanky arms. “Even Void beings.”

Hum tucks their head under Galla’s and wraps their little arms around her neck. When they lean back, Galla lets them go. They pull out a little trinket from under their lavender cloak, holding it out for Galla. She peers closely at the object.

_ **Fruit formed from a single hardened tear, from Isma the Knight.** _

“Isma?” Galla stutters. “You-- you got into Isma’s Grove?” Hum nods. “Astounding, little Hum! A remarkable feat!” she praises. Turning the green teardrop over in her claws, she continues. “So… this repels acid, correct? Leaving you safe and unharmed?”

Instead of answering, Hum gently takes the tear and pads back over to the pool. Galla reflexively tenses and prepares to snatch them to safety, but holds herself back. Hum plunks an arm into the acid without a reaction.

Then plunks their entire body into the pool, wading around aimlessly for a few seconds before hopping out.

Galla gawks openly. Hum trots back over to her and allows the mantis to check their condition. No burns or sears are anywhere on the little vessel’s body. 

In fact, the vessel is...completely dry.

“Fascinating,” Galla murmurs. “It actually repels the acid.”

Hum nods matter-of-factly.

“While it’s reassuring that you will remain unscathed should we encounter unavoidable pools of acid,” she muses, “let’s save any risk-taking for serious scenarios.”

Hum tucks the trinket back under their cloak. They reach up (_really_ reach; Galla towers over them when standing tall) and lightly tug on one claw to garner her attention. When she looks down, they point in the direction they had been traveling. 

“Ah, yes. We should keep traveling. Would be a tremendous shame to miss our target, should they head to Dirtmouth,” she laments.

Hum looks downcast.

“Do not worry, little Hum,” Galla reassures. “We are making rather quick progress. The odds of missing your sibling at the destination would be unlikely.”

Hum relaxes, still holding on to her claw tightly.

_Are you so sure, Warrior?_ A voice whispers from the back of her mind._ Are you so sure that the sibling is alive and well?_

_Are you reassuring the vessel against fear of losing a loved one?_

_Or are you futilely comforting yourself?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i KNOW you technically """eat"" isma's tear but. humor me,,


	5. Through The Hawk's Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawk doesn't know what to do without Hum.

_ Hum is gone._

The thought keeps coming back, each time hitting as hard as a sword strike, just as painful.

_ Hum is gone._

The vessel plods along numbly.

_ You have failed. You failed to keep them safe._

_ They. Are. Gone._

Hawk stews, stumbling over a crack in the path.

_ So proudly you flaunted your ability to keep Hum safe. And for a while, you did! But everyone fails, inevitably._

Yes. Hawk was proud of how reliably they kept their charge safe. That’s the point. That’s what Hawk was known for. For being loyal. For being trustworthy, and dedicated, and determined. 

_ Admit you were weak._

No. Hawk was not weak. Hawk was _not weak._

Were they?

They didn’t know anymore. They sure are weak now.

_ That was always your fault, was it not? You feel too strongly. You love too fiercely. You care too fully._

Emotions are not a fault, Hawk grits.

_ Is that so?_

Yes. Emotions give you purpose. Emotions give strength. Emotions...give you life.

_ That’s not what the Pale King thought of you or any of your siblings._

Hawk feels the anger sear through their body. The lash out, slicing a pulsing bubble of Infection. It explodes with a _pop!_, spattering the goo in a small radius.

_ Ah, bubble popping? Is that not what they used to love doing?_

Hawk blindly stabs the dual-sided nail into the rocky wall next to them.

_ Acting out? Childish! You’ve quite a temper! What was that you used to rely on to quell your rage?_

Stop it.

_ But they’re not here! Let your unhollow soul reign fury!_

** Stop!**

_ You’ve already failed Hum. Go ahead; fail yourself as well._

Hawk rips the nail from the wall and slams it to the ground in front of them. Their eyes well up with inky tears threatening to spill over.

What could they do?

What was left to do?

Hum is gone. Hawk had no purpose.

_ You know what you could do_, the same voice sneers, though in a lighter, faux-caring tone. _You know another vessel that’s suffering. You know right where they are. You’ve done what needs to be done. Now do it._

Why? What good would it do? 

_ You’d end that vessel’s suffering, and instill your own. You’d renew the barrier between dream and reality. Another truly hollow vessel will show soon and finish the job, succeed where you failed._

End their suffering.

That’s all Hawk wanted to do anymore. End the suffering of many forms of their siblings. 

Like Hum.

_ Especially Hum._

Hawk numbly picks their nail back up, and moves forward on their body’s own will.

Hum was timid and afraid and lost. Hum needed someone to be there with them. Hawk was that someone.

But Hum’s gone. They don’t need Hawk anymore.

_ End their suffering,_ the voice whispers soothingly. 

_ End their suffering._

_ Embrace the Infection_.

That’s what they would do. That would be Hawk’s final act.

Hawk sets off for the Black Egg Temple with a plan in mind.


	6. Wastes of Fungal Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Through the Fungal Wastes they go, rescuing a stray friend along the way.

Hum delighted in Hallownest’s various environments. The gleaming shards of Crystal Peak, the forlornness of the City of Tears, the welcoming atmosphere of Greenpath...they were great!

The Fungal Wastes were just plain _weird_.

These guys weren’t even bugs! They were mushrooms! Hum didn’t mind that so much as the fact that they were unpredictable.

Galla pads along on her lanky legs, Hum pattering along behind her. 

“_Ick_,” Galla groans disdainfully. “This place.”

Hum tilts their head, prompting her to elaborate.

“The wretched smell. The fermenting atmosphere. The spores...ugh, the_ spores_, little Hum. They stick to everything, do they not?”

Hum didn’t know. Did they?

“The answer is yes. They do. Gods, just look at this!” Galla swishes her cape, specks of said spores and pollen flicking away in a thin mist.

Hum flaps their cloak, mimicking what her friend had done. Being closer to the ground, they brushed up against more of the fungi, leading to more spores clinging to the fabric. Twirling back and forth sets them airborne, dusting up around the two of them. Hum revels in the little phenomenon. It’s fun! It’s cool!

Galla is not amused.

“If you’re quite done,” she says lightly, sarcastically, “we should keep moving. I’m sure you’ll gather some more as we progress.”

Hum nods in affirmation. They were ready!

The...inhabitants of the Fungal Wastes are, for the most part, not actual threats. Galla can flick her talons out and nudge most away unharmed. Amblooms march back and forth, on the path in front of the two.

Galla goes to strike them down swiftly. Hum’s eyes go wide. No, no! They flap their arms quickly to get Galla’s attention. When she glances down, Hum shakes their head vehemently. 

“Oh? You’re a little pacifist, then?” Galla questions with no malice.

What’s a pacifist? Hum stares blankly, pleading. 

Galla elaborates. “You don’t like fighting, even though these...things could cause harm?”

Hum nods. They skitter to stand in proximity of the Amblooms and stand still. True to nature, the Amblooms ignore them, and march straight by. Hum points to the action, staring back at Galla hopefully.

“You understand this could be a ruse, right?” Galla says warily. “These things may not be as simple-minded as we think.” She pauses. “They could be tricking us.”

Hum shakes their head again. No, no; Hum and Hawk had been through her lots of times before and they’d never been tricked by anything here. 

Galla hums in thought. Hum reflexively bounces on their toes at the sound. “Very well. Here,” she stretches a claw out to Hum. “Hold tight. I’ll simply step over these creatures, and carry you with me safely.”

Hum eagerly wraps their arms around Galla’s, hooking their hands around the hook in her friend’s claw. Galla tests the grip, lifting the vessel off the ground a small bit before deeming to be ready. She steps carefully over the Amblooms, timing movements so as to not bump them as they pass by. Hum holds on tightly, peering down the short distance between them and the fungi and watching as they pass by.

“There we go,” Galla murmurs after they pass. She gently puts Hum back on the ground, smiling down at them. “I’ll continue to follow your passive insistence. So long as these beings do not charge or shoot or...whatever they do, I will refrain from striking. Fair?”

Hum nods fiercely. If only Hawk was this easy to convince!

True to her word, Galla doesn’t attack any other creatures they pass, though some improvising is needed to deal with a few.

“Eugh,” she shivers after a span of silence as they enter a wide, open room. “Fungoons.”

Fungoons? What are those?

Galla points a claw upwards. “Those...thingies. Those are Fungoons. The little ones around it are Funglings. At least, that’s what I’ve heard them called.”

The Hunter was good at remembering names of things like these. Maybe if they found him, he could tell if they were right or wrong? 

Where even was the Hunter? That was Hawk’s job to remember.

_ Don’t,_ something whispers. _They are gone._

Hum shakes their head to rattle the thoughts out. Focus on what’s around you. Ground yourself. That’s what Hawk had told them to do when they heard the icky, scary voices that haunted their thoughts.

Oh, right! The Fungoons. And Funglings. They could focus on those!

Looking up showed...interesting things. Big, floaty, airy things. They bubbled and wiggled as they drifted in place. Big and yellow with green spots! And a little...trunk! Littler versions of them floated alongside, eyes closed as if dozing. But the big ones were awake! Did they speak? Were they nice? Hum wanted to know! 

“Don’t tread too closely, Hum,” Galla warns. “They seem passive, but the big ones spew toxins if you get too close.”

The littler Funglings started to drift downward, towards the two travelers. Hum points nervously.

“These ones? Harmless.” Galla prods one gently, sending it drifting in a different direction. “Just bump them away, and they’ll cease to heckle you. Just the big ones are ‘problems’.”

Hum cocks their head to the side. What did they do? How did they attack?

“You ready to sprint?” Galla asks playfully. “That’s all you have to do. Sprint past them.”

Running! Hum could do that. Hum was quick! Maybe they could beat Galla even!

“Ready, then?” Hum bounces on their toes in anticipation. “Let’s go!”

They both dart forward, right under the bubbly thing. It lets out a nasally _hwurr? _ as they scoot by. 

_ Fwoosh!_ A plume of orange Infection billows just behind them. Hum looks over their shoulder. That’s what the trunk does, then. It ...spits.

“And that’s all you need to do,” Galla chirps. “Easy to fool, easy to avoid. Hard to fall victim to. Fortunately, they only really occupy bigger rooms.”

Hum goes to nod, but stops. What was that noise? Familiar, but still strange. They tilt their head again and listen.

“What do you hear?” Galla questions.

_Crying. _Hum heard someone_ crying_. Urgently, they tug Galla’s cape in the direction Help them!

“What’s wrong?” Galla asks, clearly worried now. She follows Hum’s frantic tugging.

Down this way! They were down this way somewhere!

Galla paused as she finally heard the cries as well. “Oh, dear,” she murmurs, voice thick with concern. “We must hurry, Hum.”

Following the sounds led to an end room. But...the cries were straight ahead! How do they get to the bug needing help?

Galla strolls forward and carefully feels along the wall in front of them, between the two of them and the crier.

“This wall is weak in this area. It’s been tampered with.” Galla takes a few steps back. “Stay there; I’ll knock it back.”

Hum takes a few steps backwards to be safe. Galla puts her shoulder forward and charges. The bulk of her torso breaks through the flimsy wall easily. Rocks crumble and scatter, revealing a smaller pathway. Too short for Galla to squeeze through, but big enough for Hum to make it.

Quickly, Hum skitters forward. Now this was familiar!

“Hum!” Galla begs. “You don’t know what’s in there! Come back out! _Hum!_”

Hum ignores Galla, for once. Down the tunnel, there was a little room. The cries are louder, clearer, and nearer now.

And there it was!

One of those strange jars with lids you can’t remove. In it, a green Grub! It hasn’t noticed Hum yet, still crying and whimpering sadly. Hum trots closer, trying to make as much movement as possible so it notices. When the Grub finally notices Hum’s approaches, it rejoices, perking up and chittering excitedly.

How will Hum get them out? Usually Hawk used their nail to break the glass to free the trapped Grub. Hum didn’t have a nail; Hum didn’t have anything that could break the glass. 

Think, Hum! What was nearby that they could use? 

The rocks! The rubble from Galla breaking the wall! Hum skitters back through the small tunnel, much to the Grub’s dismay, apparent by it’s distressed wails. Hang on! I’ll be back! Hum scoops up a stone, and runs back to the Grub. It perks back up as Hum tries to show what they’ll do. It smartly scoots to the side farthest away from where Hum would shatter the glass, where the glass won’t harm it. Hum raises the rock over their head with both arms and swings it down.

_CRACK! _

“Hum?! _Hum?!_” Galla’s voice is frantic.

The glass jar shatters all around, and the Grub worms its way out safely. It scoots right up to Hum and goes for a hug, which Hum gladly provides. Hum points down the tunnel insistently, and the Grub nods. When Hum sets off back towards Galla, the Grub keeps pace right behind them. Peering down the tunnel, the two littler beings can see Galla’s fearful face, kneeling down in the opening.

“Oh, thank the gods! You must stop scaring me in this manner, little Hum!” Galla whooshes in a rush. “What was that noise?”

Hum turns and points to the Grub. It babbles and wiggles when the attention turns to it.

“Would you look at that,” Galla utters to herself. “You saved them.”

Hum positively beams. The Grub waves quickly before burrowing into the ground, likely burrowing back to where the Grubfather is located. 

“Little Hum…” Galla says in astonishment. “You saved a trapped soul, without a second thought about your own well-being or gain.” Galla kneels down again, and wraps her arms around Hum. “That was very brave, and noble, and honorable of you. Selfless, despite your size.” Her arms wrap tighter around the vessel.

Hum didn’t think anything of it. They just...did it. 

“Your sibling, all your siblings, would be very proud of you. I’m proud of you.”

_Your sibling would be very proud of you. _

Hum’s eyes well up. Hawk would be proud. 

They’d have to tell them when they find them.

_ When.Yes, when._


	7. Remembering the Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Forgotten Crossroads aren't what they used to be. Hum, however, is still just as mischievous.

Galla was not as familiar with the Forgotten Crossroads as she had been previously. 

As in, it wasn’t overflowing with Infection the last time she saw it.

Hum seems just as distraught by the revelation, though more as a residual reaction.

“What happened here?” Galla murmurs to herself after a moment of staring at pulsing orange bubbles and drips leaking from vines. All the husks wandering no longer had the faint orange glow in their eyes, only noticeable if you looked closely. No, now their eyes are orange. Boils of Infection burst from their shells. They shamble along as if in pain.

Hum hunkers closer to Galla. Oh, this poor little vessel. This would have been one of the first areas they explored upon awakening.

_ They had their sibling with them, the last time they were here_. Galla’s heart sinks.

“Come, Hum. Navigating through here is more of a task of navigating than of combat.” Galla ushers the vessel with a claw on their shoulder. Hum goes reluctantly, twisting to latch on to Galla’s claw with a tiny hand.

The Crossroads were made mostly of stone, though various grasses and other plants managed to sprout between cracks. Hum made it a point to swish through them_. Even in despair, the little one tries to find joy, _Galla thinks mournfully. 

Distract them, Galla. Do not let them descend into that ever-growing black tar of terror and dismay.

“Little Hum.” Galla chimes up after a moment. “You’re familiar with these paths, no?” Hum nods meekly. “You have likely been through here many more times than I have in recent periods. I would certainly get us lost beyond hope.” She dramatically holds a claw over her heart before looking up hopefully. “Perhaps you should be the lead navigator.”

Hum instantly perks up. They nod dutifully, and pace themselves to walk in front of Galla to lead her. Galla smiles lightly. 

For their part, Hum does seem to be familiar with these paths. They trot forward dutifully, pausing to let Galla peer around corners for threats before continuing forward. Galla has seen Hum curious, wary, and scared, but the confidence was a wonderful change. Their head held high, steps almost a march.

Until they skid to a halt. Their little arms point up, up, up. Following the gesture, there was in fact a hold in the ceiling to pass through.

“Ah. You know the routine, then.” Galla kneels, waiting for Hum to clamber up onto her shoulders. Hum hops on, clutching Galla’s horns. “All set?” Hum nods excitedly.

A quick jump gives her the height needed to latch on to the rocky wall, easily climbing up onto the next floor. She elects to keep Hum on her shoulders.

_ Oof_, Galla winces at the sight of the room. Platforms. And more platforms. And some more. Some bugs. Crawlids and Tiktiks, by the looks of it. Good, then. Those things are simple-minded and don’t attack. The strange Gruzzers dropped and oozed orange blobs of Infection, but didn’t seem to have a particular malevolence in their movements.

“Okay. This is just more dodging.” Galla speaks, for her sake or Hum’s, she didn’t know. Hum waves at the little Tiktiks that skitter back and forth nearby. “Hum, darling, they can’t…” _Oh, hush, _a tired voice scolds._ Let them be cheerful in this mournful place._ “Anyways. I’ve an important job for you.”

Hum looks over her shoulder, eyes wide. 

“See those big, bumbling bugs?” _Nod_. “Keep an eye on them. You’ll let me know if they’re overhead or not. Alright?” _Nodnod._

The platforms were rickety, and rocked slightly when stepped upon. Hum clutches on desperately, though diligently keeps their eyes up for Gruzzers.

_ Clank_. Land on a platform. Step over the Tiktik. Pause so Hum can wave again. “Overhead?” Shake. Jump_. Clank._

Good Gods, Galla finds herself tiring. How tall is this forsaken room?

Not as tall as dreaded, fortunately. A ledge comes into view, promising an end to the seemingly-endless ascension. Clambering up, Galla kneels to let Hum down.

“Which way now, little one?” Galla tilts her head. She knew, of course, but asked to humor the vessel.

To her surprise, Hum points to the left rather than the right.

“Ah, hm…” Galla falters. Hum doesn’t wait, and scampers into the room. “Hum!” For crying out loud, how many times can a childling give a trained, hardened commander frights?

A ruckus emits from the room, garbled cheers and greetings. Familiar, just familiar enough for her to have an idea of what caused them.

Hum is bouncing excitedly in place, waving maniacally at the crowd of Grubs peeking out of eggs surrounding the Grubfather. The Grubs wave back and forth happily, still cheering and babbling.

“You helped save all these creatures?” Galla asks, astonished. Hum nods fiercely, proudly. “Incredible.”

Hum positively beams. They point towards the center of the commotion, grabbing Galla’s attention. The Grubfather waves cheerfully at the two of them with a _“ho-hoo!”_ He retreats into his large egg, emerging with an armful of goods. Flailing his arms wide, he sends his bundle of loot airborne. To Galla’s surprise, dozens of chunks of Geo rain to the ground around them.

_ Clunk._ One ricochets off her head, garnering a grunt and a quick flick of her head. Hum doesn’t seem to have such an issue, skittering around to pick up smaller pieces of Geo and tuck them beneath their lavender-colored cloak. Galla stoops over to grab larger chunks to hand to Hum. Hum looks at her questioningly.

“I’ve no need for currency,” she shrugs, holding out the Geo. Hum pauses and considers her actions before carefully accepting the Geo, though they hold the final piece out towards Galla.

“Little Hum, you’ve earned it,” Galla assures. “It is rightfully yours.” Hum doesn’t stop holding the large piece out, even going so far as to shake it to get their point across. Galla heaves a sigh, gently taking the piece and tucking it away for safekeeping. Hum titters back and forth on their feet happily. “Very honorable of you, Hum,” Galla smiles. “We should be going, however.” Hum nods in agreement. Turning to wave goodbye to the Grubs and the Grubfather, Hum looks back at Galla expectantly. Galla holds back the urge to roll her eyes playfully, waving a claw as well. If it was possible, the clamour got even louder as they departed.

Back out on the ledge, Hum is noticeably more chipper.

“We should be getting near Dirtmouth, correct?” Galla inquiries. Hum nods, pointing straight. “Are you sure this is the right path?” Galla teases. “Last time we ended up in a room of Grubs.”

Hum narrows their eyes playfully, before trotting away and waiting for Galla to follow.

Fortunately, in this part of the Crossroads, there are merely just Tiktiks and Crawlids. Hum does a good enough job of meandering around them, while Galla merely needs to step over the critters. Big bubbles of Infection are still present, and Hum cautiously approaches one with an arm out. Gently patting the jiggly dome, it suddenly burst with a_ plop!, _to which Hum recoils fiercely, scampering back to Galla. 

Galla stares for a moment. Oh, the realization hits her. Hum is afraid it could infect you. “Mantises are immune to the Infection, little vessel,” Galla assures. “Still, we may be smarter to avoid contact with anything, if possible.” 

Hum nods meekly.

“Do not worry, child; I assure you no harm has come to myself, nor do I harbor any irritation towards you for merely exploring your surroundings.”

Hum relaxes visibly.

“However,” Galla continues mischievously, “the repeated running off? You should be_ ashamed_.” Her tone is playful enough that it’s apparent she isn’t serious.

Hum’s eyes narrow as they smirk.

“Don’t you do it,” Galla warns ominously.

Hum tenses, poises to dart away.

Faster than the little vessel can process, she snaps forward and scoops them up. “I warned you,” she informs sagely. “Now look at what you’ve done. You went and lost walking privileges.” 

The vessel squirms dramatically before accepting defeat and slumping in Galla’s arm, throwing a playful glare up at her.

“Show me you can behave and I’ll consider letting you back on your own two feet, little Hum,” Galla informs with false authority. “Now. That room up ahead has a chain that we can ascend to the outskirts of the town. Can I trust you to control your impulses enough for us to get there?”

Hum shrugs with a bright glint in their eyes.

“I suppose we’ll find out, hm?”


	8. Fading Town, Fading Vessel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two of them make it to Dirtmouth. They hear good news. Then awful news.

Dirtmouth is a comforting presence in the vast, mostly-empty-ness of Hallownest. A tiny little fading town, filled with kindly friends and shopkeepers.

Galla holds onto the chain tightly as she climbs up. Hum is used to the routine: hold tight, keep their balance, don’t, don’t,_ don’t_ lean to either side to look at something. Galla’s reflexes were the only thing that kept Hum from tumbling to the ground that time. Galla wasn’t mad, though. Galla didn’t get mad at Hum. That’s what Hum loves. Hum isn’t intentionally trying to cause issues. They’re just curious!

Galla’s head pokes above the ground, high enough for Hum to just barely be able to see. The familiar dusty, wind-blown landscape greets their eyes, filling them with a sense of comfort usually reserved for when they’d relax with Hawk in safety.

_ Hawk might be here! _Hum perks up instantly. Galla clambers up to the surface, careful of her cargo. When they’re both above-ground, the mantis allows Hum to plop to their feet on the ground.

“It may be...wise to let you do the talking in this place. I am not quite sure how the residents would react to one like me making a grand entrance,” Galla mutters uncomfortably.

Oh. Galla was nervous. Why? Everyone in Dirtmouth was nice. Except Zote. But you can ignore Zote.

Hum tugs Galla’s claw as they lead the way into the town. The wind blows their cloak wildly, but Galla’s cape looks regal in the breeze. 

The two pass through old, rickety metal gates that marked the entrance to the town. The atmosphere feels considerably different inside. For Hum, it felt comforting and familiar. They didn’t know how their friend felt. They hoped she felt the same.

A voice comes into earshot. _That_ voice. Gritty, nasally, boastful...Hum didn’t get mad all that often, but knowing he was here was enough to irritate them. Sure enough, Zote is in the same place as always, bobbing his silly head as he rambles about the same things. Bretta sits beside him, lost in thought.

Hum still tries to be kind. They wave to Bretta, and she shakes her head out of thoughts and waves back with a smile. Hum grins, peering back to Galla. Galla waves hesitantly, and Bretta returns her gesture as well. Zote pauses, glares daggers, and continues spouting nonsense in a louder voice.

They pass by the same familiar shops that are always in the town. Cornifer and Iselda’s map shop and the Stag Station entrance are sights reassuring to see.

Should they say hello? They wanted to. Cornifer was home; he’d already mapped the areas he wanted to, so he was resting. Iselda always acted disinterested, but loved telling Hum about stories from when she was a warrior. Maybe her and Galla could share stories.

“Little vessel!” A familiar deep voice called out. “It is wonderful to see you again!”

_ Elderbug!_ Hum scampered up to him and planted a firm hug around his waist, feeling him pat their back in return. Stepping back, they bounce on their toes happily as Galla warily approaches.

“Oh! Ah, I see you’ve a...friend.” Elderbug stammers out nervously.

“I assure you, I mean no ill will,” Galla says soothingly. “I am merely an accomplice to Hum, here.”

“Hum!” Elderbug perks up. “You’ve a name!”

Hum nods happily, skittering back to usher Galla forward.

“Pleasant to make your acquaintance, ah…” Elderbug falters.

“Galla.”

“Galla! That name seems somewhat familiar.” Elderbug looks away as if struggling to remember something.

“It is indeed a pleasantry to meet you and this little town as well,” Galla hums.

Elderbug beams a brilliant smile up to her. “Oh! Hum, I’ve a question.”

Hum tilts their head.

“I saw your sibling come through here a while ago. The fellow with the jagged horns.”

_ Hawk? Hawk had come through here! Hawk was okay!_

Hum titters from foot to foot in anticipation. Galla’s attention is piqued as well.

“Yes! However, they seemed rather...mournful. Head down, very sad. Did you two fall out?”

Hum goes still. Their eyes go wide. They retreat back into Galla.

“As a matter of fact, the two of them are on fine terms. Merely separated,” Galla tries to explain. “Back in Deepnest. I stumbled upon Hum and am intending to help them reunite safely.”

“Oh.” If it was possible, Elderbug would have gone ghostly pale. “Well, uh, I don’t mean to...alarm either of you, but...you should make haste.”

“Are you telling us to leave for simply trying to meet back with a lost sibling?” Galla’s voice is tense, on the verge of snarling. Hum hides behind her friend’s cape.

“Wha--no, no!” The bug stammers. “No! I mean--They seemed to have a final destination in mind.”

Final destination?

“Did you happen to pick up on this ‘destination’?” Galla inquires.

“If I assumed correctly, they were readying themselves to head to the…” Elderbug cuts off, looking uncomfortable.

“The…?” Galla pushes.

“The Temple of the Black Egg,” they whoosh out in a hurry. “But, they didn’t seem adequately prepared, you see.” Elderbug wrings his hands nervously. “I don’t believe they had any aidful charms on their self. They weren’t very aware of their surroundings. I don’t…” Elderbug looks uncomfortable. 

“You don’t think…” Galla murmurs worriedly.

“Ah, unfortunately, yes.”

Why would Hawk go there? They weren’t ‘hollow’; it would be useless to try to contain the Infection and the Radiance in their soul.

Why, why, _why_ would Hawk go there intentionally? They’ll get hurt. They’ll be attacked. They’ll be… Hum jolts, fearfully reaching up for Galla.

“Where is this Temple?” Galla urges, stooping down to scoop Hum up. Hum burrows into her tall friend’s shoulder, trembling.

“Descend into the Crossroads again, and head right. You’ll know when you see it.”

“Thank you, elder,” the mantis spits out, already turning to go.

“Please! Be safe, little vessel and friend!” Elderbug calls after them.

Hum’s arms have tightened to a worryingly strong degree around Galla’s shoulders and neck. Fortunately, Galla doesn’t seem to mind. Her long legs cover distance easily as she sprints back to the well they had ascended though.

Hum is scared. Hum is _scared. _They can’t even _think_ for how scared they are right now. Not even Galla’s presence is helping. Hum’s eyes well up with inky tears.

Were they too late?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EHWAFIDSUBX IM SORRY OK'


	9. Hawk's Eye Closed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final resting place. 
> 
> Or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [x-files theme]

The air of the Infected Crossroads is stuffy, but tolerable.

The atmosphere of the Temple is downright suffocating. It’s choking, thick, practically saturated with Infection. Nearly visible, even--the orange mist swirls through the rooms inside.

Take it in while you can. Should you truly go through with this, the seal will chain you in the Knight’s place, failed vessel. 

Hawk’s steps falter.

What’s wrong? Second thoughts? 

Why were they halting? They had to reason to stay out. Hum is gone. Others would manage without them around. At least in this scenario, they could at least end the Hollow Knight’s suffering.

It’s the least you could do, no? You’re the reason the Knight is in there. You weren’t truly hollow, so they were destined to take your place.

But...what if Hum was still okay, just lost? There are still kind souls in Hallownest. Hum never put up a fight or tried to seem intimidating. Granted, those impacted by the Infection would not care whether their prey struggled or not. 

Hawk shakes their head, numbly walking as they think. There were still unaffected souls in the kingdom. One of them may have found Hum. 

No, the voice snarls. You are a lost cause. Continue your journey. It’s at its end. You’re already here.

Giving up on Hum didn’t feel right. Hum would hold on to hope. Hum would keep trying. Yet, here Hawk is, on a mission with no joyful conclusion. What if Hum is okay, and finds out that Hawk had gone and replaced the Hollow Knight?

LISTEN TO HER.

The intensity of the voice startles Hawk to attention. They’d made it further inside the Temple’s chambers, to the final room before the chained vessel. A dusty bench sits against the wall innocently. No Hum swinging their legs, no Hum peering over the edge to see what was around them.

SIT.

Why was Hawk listening to this voice? At first it was soothing, comforting to have another voice agreeing with their despaired own. Hawk reluctantly pauses in front of the bench.

Ready yourself, pitiful one. Let the Infection consume your impure soul. 

Hawk looks at the nail in their hands.

Let her be free once more.

The doors to the Temple open with a clamber, two figured rushing inside.

“Come here,” the taller one whispers, kneeling. “We can cover distance faster if I carry you. We may catch them yet.”

The smaller figure scampers into the first’s arms.

“Oh, Gods, let us have made it in time.” The tall shadow frets, sprinting down the corridors.

So this is it, then.

Charms arranged. Nail ready.

Why? Why bother putting up a fight at all? There was no winning.

Hawk stands at the bench, gathering courage or wits, they couldn’t tell. The voice was lying, twisting words to sound appealing when it was only in it’s interest.

Footsteps.

Had some idiot husk made their way inside the Temple? Unlikely, but possible, Hawk supposes.

No. NO. Go now, impure one.

No...those footsteps were too quick, too coordinated.

Who is it, then?

“Hello?” A voice calls out, echoing in the vast room’s shadows. “Vessel?”

Did they mean Hawk? Did they know Hawk was here? Or did they mean the Hollow Knight? What a fool, if the latter is the case. The poor vessel can’t answer.

GET IN THERE. DESTROY YOURSELF.

“Please?”

Pitiful, but approaching rapidly. Reflexively, Hawk readies their nail to defend themselves. 

The voice’s owner skids into the room, heaving a relieved sigh. “Thank the Gods. You’re still okay.” 

Did...Hawk know this bug? Their nail falters slightly.

Then clatters to the ground.

The figure--some Mantis, apparently-- gently allows her cargo to the ground.

Tiny cargo.

Cargo with a bright green scarf, and a pale lavender-colored cloak, and wide, scared eyes brimming with tears.

As soon as Hawk’s eyes meet the other vessel’s, they rush towards each other and crash into an embrace. Hawk lifts them off the ground with the force of their grip, wrapping their arms tightly around their sibling.

“We were afraid we had heard news and arrived too late,” the Mantis speaks smoothly. “Fortunately, time seems to be on our side, Hum.”

Hum doesn’t respond, they can’t, tucking their head into Hawk’s shoulder. Their scarf tickles Hawk’s mask, but Hawk finds they do not care. Hum is here and safe and…

Hawk looks to the newcomer, tears leaking down their mask.

“Oh, dear, don’t cry,” the Mantis begs. “I can barely control myself when little Hum is upset or sad. I may lose my composure with two weepy souls.”

Hawk feels Hum’s body jerk in a laughing motion against their shoulder. The older vessel rubs an arm soothingly over their sibling’s trembling back.

“You two are lucky to have a sibling that cares so deeply for you,” the Mantis murmurs. “Hum was persistent. You were going to sacrifice yourself to help keep them safe, in a way. Your care and bond are admirable.”

Hawk knows they should respond to the kind words. This bug had saved their sibling, had brought Hum back to them. But they couldn’t make themself let go.

Fortunately, Hum seems to know the drill. They pull back, albeit hesitantly, still holding on to Hawk’s arm, and point to the Mantis looking over them. Hum waits for Hawk to do something, but Hawk is still so stunned by Hum’s return that they do nothing. Hum gives a hint, waving their free hand to the Mantis. Smiling, relieved, the Mantis waves a claw back. Hum turns expectantly to Hawk and waits. Hawk makes a show of rolling their eyes before waving as well.

The Mantis chuckles warmly. “Shall we depart this depressing place, then? I’m sure Hum would love to detail what went on in your absence.”

Hum nods furiously, tugging Hawk’s arm towards the door. The Mantis waits patiently at the entrance while Hawk turns (as much as they can, with Hum still clinging to their side like glue) to retrieve their nail.

With a determined nod, the three leave the Temple, leave that voice behind.

The Mantis hums after a few steps. “I do suppose we have some greeting and catching up to do, yes?” Hawk nods tiredly. “Ah, fortunately, the residents of the little Dirtmouth town seem to be rather friendly,” she finishes with an exaggerated wink to Hum.

Hum narrows their eyes in a big, big smile, and wrap their little hand around Hawk’s as they proceed.


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Familiar faces return to Dirtmouth for a heartfelt thank-you.

It is always sad to see a traveler with a final destination in mind. No matter who, or where, or why.

It would still hurt.

It didn’t get easier for anyone. Especially not Elderbug.

Elderbug, who remembered every face that passed through the little fading town of Dirtmouth. He always hoped to see the faces again, someday. But some had that look in their eyes that foreshadowed the answer.

That mournful vessel with the jagged horns had that look.

They did not have their typical accompanying sibling with them.

Elderbug could piece things together.

Does he speak up with words of comfort? Try to change their mind?

Would they listen?

Elderbug shakes his head to rattle the thoughts away. Nothing had helped. They were gone. One more soul fading out of the fading town.

He looks down sadly, then over at the empty iron bench next to him.

Empty.

Would it ever be filled again?

“Hello again!” Iselda’s voice calls out from her and Cornifer’s shop. Who was she greeting? Typically, Iselda was tired and flat-voiced. Now, she was chipper, even rousing her partner to wake and greet the newcoming travelers.

_ Again,_ though?

Three shapes make their way out of the dusty, gloomy fog that surrounds the town. Bretta chirps a friendly greeting as well, speaking over Zote’s incessant rambling.

Who was it? Elderbug peers closer.

And smiles.

The Mantis warrior, the little vessel, and the previously-assumed hopeless vessel have returned.

“You three have no idea how wonderful it is to see you in good spirits again!” He welcomes warmly. The smaller vessel, Hum, acts as if they want to rush over to say hello, but are obviously reluctant to release their sibling’s hand.

“To you as well, elder,” the Mantis returns gratefully.

“I see your mission was successful,” he chips in lightly, trying to indirectly prompt an answer out of someone.

“Indeed.” The Mantis smiles. Both vessels nod, one significantly more tired than the other. “I believe we have you to thank.”

Both vessels nod again. Hum finally breaks away from their sibling to crash into Elderbug in a fierce hug. Their sibling’s eyes threaten to well up as they join as well. 

“Oh,” Elderbug stammers at the gestures. His body catches up to his mind, and he wraps an arm around each vessel gently. “It wasn’t a great feat, I don’t think…”

“Elderbug.” The Mantis begins sterly. “You saved a life here, and saved another from being devastated. That is not including the countless travelers you have aided over the years. Do not sell yourself short.”

“But…”

“This isn’t a debate,” the Mantis whooshes sternly but gently. “You have done great things, and continue to do more. That is something this world needs more of; this kingdom in particular. So many are hopeless and lost, and you serve a well purpose to remind them that if they care to keep trying, they’ll find a reason to continue.”

Elderbug is stunned. Never before had he been spoken so kindly off to his face.

Hum and Hawk pull back slowly, linking their hands again.

“Well, I--ah, hm.” He considers his wording carefully. “I deeply appreciate your words, truly. I am just a humble, elderly bug in a small town fading from minds, but…”

“You’re doing honorable, notably-brave things. This isn’t a discussion. Your good deeds have been done, and will continue to be done.” 

“Thank you, warrior,” Elderbug murmurs quietly.

“Strangers call me ‘warrior’,” she smirks. “My close friends call me Galla.”

Hum titters from foot to foot happily at the conversation. Hawk, tired and weary, gives a weak smile evident by the slight curve of their eyes as well.

“We three plan on returning many times, just so you know.” Hum nods quickly and bounces. Hawk nods as well. “A mere thing to do to repay someone who has done so much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aa okay!! this is the first time i've actually done something multi-chapter like this so it was a learnin' experience. it was fun writin' it and i super appreciate the comments and kudos yous guys left :]c thank y'all a bunch!! take care, wherever you are!! <3

**Author's Note:**

> i plan on having consecutive chapters after this being a bit longer than the first!! this is my first go at writing something...multi-chapter and multi-POV so i'm figurin' stuff out as i go.


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